


Gift of the One Omake

by ganonso



Series: Gift of the One [2]
Category: DCU (Animated), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 06:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6460378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ganonso/pseuds/ganonso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roads not taken, paths not trod</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift of the One Omake

Episode 1: Kneeling Day What If: Aggressive SI  
HALL OF JUSTICE, WASHINGTON DC  
JUNE,22,2010, 12:00PM

Some things are terrifying beyond all reasons like the charnel fields of Xibalba. Some things are impressive beyond mortal ken like the assembly of the gods that greeted me in the underworld. And some things while not possessing the power of a titan and a gathering of divine power manage very well to impose respect and silence in their beholders: The trinity of Batman, Superman and Wonder Woman looking down on me in mostly benevolent judgement is one of these.

I admit I don’t understand Diana’s presence here at all, she was leading us in battle, she already know all that I have to report. Hell, I would be very surprised if she disagreed with my actions. Sure she could have considered them overkill in most situations, but the trap sprung on us justify all types of means even some more detestable that those I used back there. And she ordered me to use lethal force when she saw what we were up against.

Batman is scowling as usual so no hints on what he thinks of this. He certainly seemed to approve my shutting off some criminals in Gotham when I arrived, especially when I reassured him the horrid mantle of the Lord of Mictlan was destined to frighten gangbangers so much they would take no action against me. Also he knows his mythology, he understands the Black One is no power of evil but a defender of the innocent.

Superman is the big unknown. His expression is unreadable, the face or a mask of benevolent impartiality. I don’t know if in this universe he’ll be the big blue scout or more like the cocky bloodthirsty warrior of the New 52. In either case I didn’t kill anyone I was not allowed to and I showed clear hesitation and waited a direct order to do so.

The fact I would have done so without regrets if I hadn’t been under the eyes of Wonder Woman is irrelevant to the question at hand. Creatures of incarnated sin don’t get to complain. Superman’s voice drags me back to reality;

“We have heard Wonder-Woman’s recounting of the events on the Potomac but we’ll like to know what was your impression of them. You said to her and Batman sooner your outlook could be modified by the power you’re channeling.” His voice is full of…Concern. Yes that’s the word. Are they believing the gods twist my perceptions of reality? Well they do but only to show me the world as it is and should be, bereft of the illusions and limitations of mortal flesh. I force myself to adopt a monotone, professional tone as I begin:

“When the call came, I was hesitant on what power channel into myself. The gods’ gifts are versatile but when one option is chosen it is chosen for at least the half-day. As the situation screamed supervillains to Hawkman and Wonder Woman and she had decided to evaluate my abilities in a spar, I decided to channel a warlike divinity to help them in their fight. I choose lady Kali who is one of the best fighters among the gods” and whose wrath is the most terrible and frenzy the most durable but I didn’t remember that and Vergil didn’t think to remember, the blasted thing!”

So many gods are evoked by dance and song and the Destroyer’s spouse is no exception. This dance is slow then quick then frantic, a prelude for the battle to come, to get the blood pumping in my veins, to get my heart beating in my ears. My mouth moans ancient hymns and new ones, songs first to gentle Parvati then to her coming to war in her attire of Kali the Black who turns against weapons the chaos and the terror. Then more clearly comes the prayer, the spell who invites the goddess to come through my hollow soul and fill the shell of my flesh.

“Oh you beautiful even in death and sin. Oh you strong beyond all mortal and divine strength. Oh you spouse of He of the Third Eye and Splendid Locks. I remember your victories. I remember your dance as you broke the corpses of your enemies beneath your feet. Blood flows from your mouth oh Terrible One, blades fills your arms and limbs decorate your beauty. Kali the black warrior of the Devas. Kali Destroyer of the Sins of Three Worlds, patron of the Thugs, I invoke your name and your power and submit to you my flesh and my mind.”

She comes, she comes. A long curved saber comes in my hand and I sense the thirst of the weapons, the presence of divine chaos, of grisly war and night filled with terrors. These are my powers now and I can’t wait for the occasion to unleash them.

“When we arrived in view of the Potomac, we were ambushed by two supervillains: Bolt and Angle Man according to your colleagues. They were accompanied or obeyed four creatures of legend Vergil identified as the responsible parties for the synchronized accident. They took the liberty to reanimate all the dead to use as weapons against them. As I was the only one of the group unable to fly.” I look to Wonder Woman: “Perhaps it is best you tell this part, sir?”

“Seeing as our adversaries on the ground were demons and undead I authorized you to use lethal force in your attempts to maintain them on the ground while I chased Angle Man with Katar”

I thank her profusely. Now there only a difficult par remaining and we can return to more interesting things.

“Seeing as I was badly outnumbered I took the mantle of the Destroyer to the next level and attacked the demons. There were three of the deevs, malformed giants with power over beasts and one druj, a sort of nymph attuned to destruction, and perhaps thirty undead servants”

My skin blackens as I come in her true power. My fangs grow to bite my lips and sweet is the blood on my tongue. The long curved saber is joined by a trident while two arms of pure shadows are grafted to my torso. Grisly trophies adorn my flesh each a conduit of my power. Red. I see red everywhere only broken by painful pinpricks of light. My enemies! It’s my enemies that hurt me so! They will die. They will die screaming and I will dance on their broken corpses.

I don’t see them. Not clearly anyway. I run in their general direction, howling dreadful howls, weapons at the front. They send the dead against me in a wave of darkness of cold. I laugh for am I not mistress of death and pyres and don’t unquiet shades flee my wrath like everyone? I strike right and left sensing soft flesh and ephemera break under my blades. It is not enough! It is not nearly enough. I perceive without sight the deformed giants raising their own blades against me while the succubus’ spite engulfs my flesh in black flame.

Pain is nothing. Pain simply fuels the rage, simply fuels the will. I am Kali of multiples austerities who devours her weaknesses as she devours all things. I charge them all without thinking, confident in the strength of the goddess filling each fiber of my flesh. My rage is so encompassing, so fierce that what remains human in me can only find a single frame of reference. I don’t think the demons were expecting my batlle cry:

“Blood! Blood for the gods! Skulls for the pantheon!”

I dodge a giant halberd while my trident bite belly flesh, spreading entrails far and wide. The deev grunts, pain twisting further his porcine face. I want to laugh. The face of the Persian demon looks just like something out of a video-game, like the 3d version of Ganon. I tear my weapon from his bowels and targets the heart. One down. The druj floats above us, gout of hot metal scalding my flesh, blight filling my lungs. You want to play to this demoness? I turn my face to her and let her see me in anger. Eyes roll in my orbits, blood fills my mouth, traits twist in divine frenzy. No Gorgon, no demons of later myths looks so terrible as me in my wrath. Her nature breaks as she knows fear and unravel herself before I can catch her.

The last two are barely more difficult. I lose my weapons in the heart of the first and attacks the last unarmed. I need no weapon as my hands close around his throat, giant limbs superseding my febble flesh. The elephantine neck resist during a moment then breaks and he’s at my feet.

I revel in my victory, I trample their corpses to sweet, sweet wine. I howl my joy to the heavens where the two heroes seem to have dispatched their adversaries. Then my joy become frustration because I need more enemies. My energies reserves are dwindling but I can still do so much good in the city in the distance, the city full of criminals, worshippers and enemies who need to be shown what a goddess can do.

What human in me recoils at the thought but less strongly than before. I’m Kali whose rage ceases only by the love of my husband and none here can make me bow and calm.

I don’t see the first strike of the mace and doesn’t feel the second. Hawkman dived behind me and proceeded to try to take me down. Dream on little warrior, I just defeated giants, what a winged man with a mac can…

Another strike, this time I’m outright recoiling under the onslaught. He dodges my own blows, striking and pummeling my armor of darkness give way and breaks in fragments.

I feel the noose of the lasso tighten on my neck, burning with the power of truth. My host smiles while he remembers a certain capability of the Lasso of Truth: to send an ensorcelled being back to her original form. My thought breaks and are replaced by clouding mists as I recede back the wound in his soul, back to my place among the gods.

“Using the Lasso of Truth, Wonder Woman was able to stop me before I could use what remained of the goddess’ power to rampage across the city. I had forgotten on how Kali’s rage was so great she once trampled her own husband before realizing it.”

The three seem to confer among themselves using only their eyes. I shudder at the thought I have not yet evoked the most disturbing this in all this. During my first day here I thought the effects on my mind were an issue on who I summoned like Nergal or the Lord of Mictlan. Now I’m not so sure. I’m still convinced my best chance of survival and power resides in trusting the gods and surrendering to their divine might to surmount my own weaknesses but it seems the flaws of such a method are a little more than I expected.

Well who risks nothing…


End file.
